PETER
The hug was accepted easily, as long as he want the one to initiate it Peter was happy to hold and be held, though he was also glad Maea kept it short, both of them pulling back to their bubbles of personal space. There was the a ghost of a smile on Peters lips now, the emotion coming easier to him than what she might have remembered. It was the most obvious change to him, where there had been a stifling anxiety before, there was now a breath of ease, of comfort in himself.
Other than that though, he had not changed much, his dark hair kept short with a dagger, and his clothes as layered and grubby as ever. If anything, he looked a touch more tired, but then again, so did she. It was simply what time did, Peter thought.
”I... I don’t know. I thought, uh... think, I guess, I should have... should have kept it nice. Here.” Peter shrugs, looking around the ruined room. ”It just... didn’t feel uh... good, or right, without you here.” Some of his concern bled away with the softness of her voice. It was a balm, a warm blanket he’d all but forgotten about.
Again, Peter found himself struggling with his words, so much trying to condense itself into something sensible. ”I’m... glad you’re back. Things have been... they’ve been... a lot. Confusing, and... and hard, and... I don’t know.” He shrugged, as if to show just how much he didn’t know, and tried again. ”I’ve been... good, mostly. What about you? I was... I was worried, I thought...” Shaking his head, Peter tailed off, not following the thought through.
Other than that though, he had not changed much, his dark hair kept short with a dagger, and his clothes as layered and grubby as ever. If anything, he looked a touch more tired, but then again, so did she. It was simply what time did, Peter thought.
”I... I don’t know. I thought, uh... think, I guess, I should have... should have kept it nice. Here.” Peter shrugs, looking around the ruined room. ”It just... didn’t feel uh... good, or right, without you here.” Some of his concern bled away with the softness of her voice. It was a balm, a warm blanket he’d all but forgotten about.
Again, Peter found himself struggling with his words, so much trying to condense itself into something sensible. ”I’m... glad you’re back. Things have been... they’ve been... a lot. Confusing, and... and hard, and... I don’t know.” He shrugged, as if to show just how much he didn’t know, and tried again. ”I’ve been... good, mostly. What about you? I was... I was worried, I thought...” Shaking his head, Peter tailed off, not following the thought through.
and our memories defeat us
and I’ll end this duress
and I’ll end this duress
